


Finishing What You Started

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Requests/Prompts [15]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Paranoia, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23504341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: Prompt: I was thinking and there was a cute idea about Mickey and his GED. He wants to finally get it but he keeps it a surprise from Ian. But Ian thinks Mickey is either cheating on him or falling out of love with him, because Mickey is always distracted, doesn't have much time for him, goes to another room when his phone rings, is hiding stuff from him, is keeping secrets from him. That goes on for weeks and when Mickey asks him one day to sit down because he has to tell him something, Ian prepares for the worst.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Requests/Prompts [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/878244
Comments: 19
Kudos: 323





	Finishing What You Started

The idea to take the GED first struck Mickey when he tried helping Liam with fractions and Lip, the jackass, asked if Mickey was sure he knew what he was talking about.

“I ain’t  _ that  _ buzzed,” Mickey argued, annoyed.

“But I mean… Did you ever actually do  _ work  _ in high school?” Lip asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“And I needed to do homework to learn fractions?” Mickey demanded irritably. “Fuckin please. Street math gets you ready for real world math way quicker’n classroom math,” Mickey asserted, brows raised high on his forehead, a position that Lip has learned by now means to choose the direction of the conversation wisely.

“He’s learning fractions not how to deal coke, Mickey,” Lip argued. Mickey’s eyes narrowed, one brow arched to communicate just how ridiculous Lip was being.

“Alright, alright, break it up!” Ian called from halfway down the stairs. “Lip, Mickey’s a whiz with numbers, always has been.”

“Thank you!” Mickey sighed at his husband. Ian sent him a flash of a smile before returning his attention to where he was going — the fridge for his first beer of the evening. 

“If you say so,” Lip shrugged. Mickey pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, gathering hismelf.

“You wanna help him? Be my fuckin guest!” Mickey snapped.

“No, no, you say you got it… so….”

“An’ anyway, don’t you got a fuckin kid to change or coddle or somethin?” Lip shrugged again, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Tami’s got him, I can help Liam if you want.” Mickey glared at Lip, bit his bottom lip, and left the table. Ian tried to reach for his arm but Mickey shrugged away, not in the mood to be coddled himself.

“Oh! Uh… Thanks for the help, Mickey!” Liam called behind him, a little awkwardly. Poor kid… witnessing and being in the middle of a stupid fuckin tiff. And over fuckin what?  _ Fractions?!  _ Mickey waved a hand in acknowledgement, not wanting the kid to think he was mad at him or anything just because his brother was being an ass.

Mickey huffed out an irritated breath as he sat on the top step of the porch and pulled out a smoke, lighting up in a fluid, practiced motion and inhaling deeply. He pinched the corners of his eyes again and looked out to the empty street.

It wasn’t even so much about Lip… It was about  _ anyone  _ doubting him just because he never finished high school. Without that piece of paper Larry had struggled even harder with finding Mickey employment and… Did Mickey really want to work security and restaurant jobs the rest of his life? Sure, his record limited him on some possibilities, but at least the GED would open a few of the closed doors that  _ could  _ be opened to him eventually once probation was over.

Sitting on the front porch, Mickey looked at his ring — the ring Ian picked out and the thinner black band that Mickey had selected. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as a sense of ease washed over him. As always, Ian had his back and showed the faith he had in him. Mickey knew who he was, knew he was smart, knew he could do more than what he was doing… He’d been dealt a shitty hand. All of them had. And he did the best he fuckin could. And it meant the world to Mickey that Ian knew all of this too.

_ He  _ never acted superior for having his GED, never acted like there was some sort of difference between them just because Ian had that piece of paper and Mickey didn’t. Too bad other assholes out in the world wouldn’t have the same attitude.

Mickey huffed out another plume of smoke and ran his fingers through his hair.  _ Alright _ … He’d already received one life-changing piece of paper this year… Why not go for two?

Mickey’s next day off, Ian was working a double and all the Gallaghers were gone which gave Mickey free access to the family computer. The piece of shit needed to be replaced ASAP, it ran as though it could only process one megabit per second… So he doubled his efforts, doing research on his phone as he signed up for the appropriate classes and shit on the computer. Mickey was fully prepared to just take the test until he saw the cost… $120 for the whole test.  _ Fuck. That.  _ If he failed that’d be money right down the drain. So… Prep classes. 

God, Mickey rarely got embarrassed, but here in the moment… Yeah, Mickey was about to be a 26 year old re-entering high school. That shit was embarrassing. But… it was either that or going into the test completely blindand chancing tossing away half a week’s worth of earnings.

There wasn’t really a particular reason he kept it to himself, he just didn’t go about blasting his business to people, not even his husband. Plus, Ian never asked, so Mickey never told where he went Tuesday and Thursday nights…

//////

Mickey was acting funny… 

Ian couldn’t put his exact finger on it, but there were these… quirks Mickey developed almost overnight that had Ian wondering what the fuck was going on with his husband. Like two weeks ago, Ian walked into their room and Mickey suddenly slammed the family computer shut.

“You know I don’t give a shit if you watch porn, Mick,” Ian joked. “Though… you knew I was gonna be home around now, you coulda waited…” He raised his brows and moved to remove his shirt suggestively. Mickey’s face was completely unamused, grave even, which stopped Ian’s teasing in its tracks.

“Since when do I watch porn?” Mickey asked defensively. Ian’s eyes widened, slightly shocked and stung at Mickey’s tone.

“Jesus, it was a joke, Mick.” Ian held his hands up in surrender and got undressed without any show, simply preparing to pull on some loungewear. Mickey had averted his eyes but maintained his reclined position on his side across their bed. “But…” Ian wondered aloud, pulling a pair of sweats from their dresser. “If it wasn’t porn then what’d you slam the computer closed for?”

“I didn’t slam it. I was done with it,” Mickey replied with a tone that implied Ian was the one acting weird.

“Um… Okay,” Ian allowed, pulling one of Mickey’s tee-shirts out of another drawer. “I was gonna grab a shower… Wanna join me?” He added a flirtatious flare to the invitation, hoping to entice his husband to some private quality time. But Mickey held his palm up in a dismissive gesture, his face not shifting to show any lightness whatsoever.

“Naw, I’m good,” Mickey replied curtly. They had barely seen each other in three days because of their busy work schedules so Ian was once again a little stung. But also Mickey was allowed to just… not want to. So Ian didn’t push.

“Okay… Um…” Ian drifted off, at a loss for what to say. This was the most uncomfortable he’d ever been around Mickey. Even in their early days he couldn’t remember having this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If there was one thing Ian was always sure of it was that Mickey adored him even if his way of showing it was unconventional. This was… So, so new, this closed off thing Mickey was doing. 

“I love you,” Mickey murmured, sounding like he knew and felt guilty about hurting Ian. The redhead grinned, his stomach kicked up with butterflies like every time Mickey told him “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied sweetly. He looked down at Mickey’s shirt in his hands for a brief moment then threw it over his shoulder and went to take that shower. As he slid the door closed behind him… He could’ve sworn that he heard the thick plastic creak of the ancient laptop’s lid lifting…

  
  


A few days after, Ian realized that Mickey was coming home later than normal. He said nothing at first because he didn’t want to come off as a helicopter spouse, but one evening while Liam and Ian were catching up on one of those prime-time talent shows, Liam made a casual comment.

“So, where’s Mickey been lately?” Liam asked. Ian’s brows furrowed and he turned for half a second to take in his little brother’s passive face.

“What d’you mean?” Ian asked, though he already had an idea.

“Where’s he been? Used to he was a huge homebody but now I hardly see him at all.” Liam’s voice was innocent enough, but the roaring anxiety in Ian’s core told him that Liam’s words were hitting on something going round in Ian’s subconscious.

“Oh… Um… I guess he picked up more hours at work,” Ian replied as casually as he could manage.

“You mean you don’t  _ know?”  _ LIim asked, looking at his brother for the first time with an expression of shock and disbelief. Ian met his gaze, eyes a little widened in shock himself.

“I’m not his keeper, he doesn’t need to check in with me about where he goes or what he does.” 

“It doesn’t bother you, not knowing?” Liam asked. When Ian didn’t answer at first, Liam pursed his lips as though saying “Mhm, knew it.”

“I trust him,” Ian finally stated firmly, confidently. 

Later that night when Mickey got home he asked where Mickey was… And Mickey wouldn’t go any more specific than “out.”

The next few days Mickey stuck around — though, it was the weekend… — but he just… He wasn’t Mickey. Usually when Mickey got snippy it was playful and Ian could  _ always  _ tell the difference between play snark and true irritation. But here Ian was trying to give his man some affection — kisses on his neck, caresses on his shoulder and waist, or through his hair… a pat on the ass in passing… But each time Mickey shifted away until Finally, when Ian wrapped his arms around him in a hug from behind while making lunch, Mickey finally snapped.

“Jesus, Ian! You gonna breathe down my neck all goddamned day? We ain’t fuckin conjoined twins. Fuck!” Ian withdrew his arms as though he’d been punched in the ribs and gawked as his partner in complete disbelief. Mickey turned to face him, eyes hard and brows raised.

“I just… feel like I haven’t seen you all week… I missed you,” Ian murmured dejectedly. Mickey’s eyes softened and he looked so sorry, but he didn’t verbalize it.

“I’m doin what I gotta do, a’right?” Mickey replied a little gruffly, but there was a tinge of apology there too.

“What is it you gotta do?” Ian asked practically pleading with him. Mickey’s cheeks flushed a little bit.

“Don’t worry about it. It ain’t about you.” Ian’s heart sank.

“Since when do we keep secrets?” Ian implored.

“Since when do you not trust me?” Mickey demanded. Ian’s blood froze. This was precisely why he hadn’t confronted Mickey about his weird behavior before.

“Of course I trust you, Mick, but you’re the one actin shady!” Ian cried. Mickey paused, eyes aflame as they held Ian’s. They both turned to face three Gallaghers standing in the doorway to the kitchen, all of them struck dumb with shock. The fight visibly drained from Mickey and he sighed.

“It’s nothin, okay? Trust me.” And he was so earnest, so calm that Ian could only nod. But still his core swam with nerves.

Every night for the past week, it seemed, Ian would reach for Mickey in bed and Mickey would shrug him off, leaving Ian dejected. The same night as that fight in the kitchen, after Mickey once again shrugged him off, Ian rolled on top of Mickey, forcing eye contact.

“You never gonna sleep with me again?” Ian demanded.

“Get off me, Gallagher,” Mickey grunted pushing at Ian’s shoulder.

“You talk to me first,  _ Gallagher! _ ” Ian replied fiercely, throwing his leg over Mickey’s hip so he was straddling his waist. 

“I thought this was about your blue balls,” Mickey seethed irritably.

“Fuck blue balls, you barely let me  _ near you all week!”  _ He hissed, feeling a crack in his throat as that pent-up hurt pushed its way to the surface. Even in the dark Ian could see the regretful look on his husband’s face. Ian sat up but didn’t get up from his position over Mickey. Mickey rest his palms against Ian’s bare thighs and ran a gentle thumb along the bottom seam of his boxers.

“Did I… Did I do something wrong?” Ian asked helplessly. Mickey’s eyes darted to meet Ian’s as though in shock at the question, his face drawn in regret and remorse.

“What? No!” 

“Then why are you out late every other night and being secretive with your phone and the computer and why do you get pissy when I wanna touch you?” Ian listed, growing more frantic with each item he added. Mickey’s mouth dropped but he quickly closed it, clearly struggling with his words. His hands clutched at Ian’s thighs, it felt desperate though Ian couldn’t figure out how that could be.

“It ain’t you, man, I already told you.”

“Then what is it? We’re supposed to face shit  _ together _ and this shit that we’re doing right now?  _ Not. Together.”  _ Mickey closed his eyes and went limp beneath him.

“I’m sorry…” Mickey sighed. Ian relaxed a little but his core still swam with weariness. “C’mere.” He reached up with his left hand to pull Ian into him and kissed him fiercely.

Their bodies, as always, responded to each other and before either of them knew it, Ian was buried deep inside Mickey and Mickey was wrapped fiercely around Ian, his arms thrown over his shoulders and fingers digging deep into the slightly overgrown red strands and broad shoulder blade of his back. As Ian moved, they kept their foreheads pressed together, their breath mingling between open-mouthed kisses.

As Mickey approached his climax Ian heard his breaths quicken, but didn’t realize until many moments later that those breaths were not only from sexual ecstacy but also from sobs.

“Mick?” Ian started to pull back but Mickey pulled him back down and threw his hips up to keep their connection as Ian tried to retreat. “Mickey?” Ian murmured against his ear.

“I’m good,” Mickey replied a little huskily. For good measure, the dark-haired man kissed Ian’s neck, right at the spot that always made Ian smile from the shots of electricity that rocket through his body… all from that spot.

Mickey came first. And this time he didn’t even try to conceal his sounds from the rest of the family, apparently wanting Ian to hear what he did for him. As the final, climactic moan ripped from his chest, a sob quickly chased the sexual noise, further distracting Ian.  _ What… the fuck… was happening with his husband?  _

“Mick?” Ian asked gently.

“Keep going,” Mickey pushed, actively working his hips to continue the motion which Ian had stopped.

“No… What—”

Mickey used Ian’s distraction to toss the taller man over and quickly re-mounted, pulling himself up and slamming back down on him. Ian, damn him, laid back and watched, hands cradling the backs of Mickey’s thighs as his partner rode him.

From there it didn’t take long before he clutched Mickey to him as he finished deep within him, feeling Mickey’s walls practically massaging him as they sat in post-coital glow. Ian was sitting up, though he didn’t remember springing to that position, and Mickey clutched Ian to him in a fierce hug. Mickey guided Ian’s head to his chest and rest his own head against the crown of Ian’s, running his tattooed fingers through the redhead’s hair and down over his shoulderblades.

Ian didn’t know if he felt reassured about what was going on in general… but in that moment he felt warm and loved and thoroughly comforted, especially when Mickey finally let him kiss him and told him he loved him.

  
  


The next morning Mickey was gone when Ian woke up… And wasn’t in the kitchen or living room… Just gone.

Ian suddenly felt fuckin  _ dirty,  _ used. Mickey’d done… everything from last night to get Ian off his back and that was it. He punched the side of the couch and stormed back to their bedroom where he dressed for work and went in early.

  
  


“10 Signs Your Spouse Is Cheating”

An article that Ian  _ never, ever,  _ in a  _ million fucking years  _ would have guessed he’d look at. Even as a fucking joke.

He was so absorbed in his phone that he didn’t even hear Lip enter the house.

“Whatcha reading?” Lip asked casually. Ian jumped, clutching at his heart.

“FUCK!” 

“Damn… Sorry,” Lip murmured, going straight for the coffee pot.

“No… You’re fine, I… I was distracted,” Ian mumbled awkwardly.

“Yeah I could see that much. What had you so transfixed?” The acrid taste of acid suddenly filled Ian’s mouth. Should he confide in his brother about something like this? He and Mickey already didn’t get along that well… But… who else could he actually confide this to?

“I…” Ian actually gagged at the words that almost escaped him. “I think Mick might be… cheating on me,” Ian finally breathed out, his voice sounding flimsy and growing quieter as his sentence continued.

“Mickey?” Lip clarified. Ian met his brother’s gaze. Lip’s face looked practically overjoyed. “Mickey Milkovich-Gallagher… The man you married, what, six months ago?” Lip continued. Ian shook his head, acknowledging how crazy it sounded. “Are you fuckin kidding me? He practically worships the fuckin ground you walk on.”

“I wouldn’t go  _ that  _ far,” Ian muttered, though he saw Lip’s point. Mickey had  _ always  _ fuckin adored him. Ian had never…  _ never  _ truly worried that Mickey wasn’t all in with him — with exception to mental illness and general anxiety fogging up his judgement.

“Ian… He and I might not get along well, but… It’s fuckin obvious how much he loves you. He’d never do that to you.”

“I know, it’s just…” Ian looked back to his phone, the screen now black from lack of attention. “He’s never home… And when he is, he’s…  _ hostile.  _ Like..”

“What, like he’s ever cheery?” Lip joked. Ian met his brother’s gaze as he settled down into the chair across from him.

“I’m serious. He’s... “ He swallowed a lump in his throat.  _ Mean.  _ That was the word he was about to use to describe the love of his life. “Different.” He finally breathed.

“So you were reading one of those stupid articles?” Lip guessed. Ian slid his phone away from them and nodded. “So, what’d you find out?”

“He fits six of ten signs that psychology.com gave…” Ian murmured. Lip’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Ian breathed, his chest constricting into a painful vice.

“Fuck… What’re you going to do?” Lip asked. Ian bit his lip.

“Confront him… See if it’s true…”

“You think he’d admit it if he were?” Ian felt tears well as he considered that question.

“I trust him so much, I… I can’t even believe I’m fuckin considering this as a possibility,” Ian gasped. Lip stared at his brother for a long, silent moment.

“Well… Like I said,” Lip blurted after a prolonged silence. “The best thing to do is confront him. Or else you’re gonna drive yourself fuckin crazy worrying about it.” Ian just nodded but otherwise… sat.

He sat in that chair all damn day with Gallaghers bustling in and out of the kitchen, asking him how he was, if they could do anything for him, even if he was taking his meds. He gave them the bare minimum response so they’d leave him alone but still he never left that chair. Mickey didn’t walk through the front door until 11PM. Everyone else was in bed or at least quiet in their rooms and Mickey surely had expected that as he first made his way toward the first set of stairs, only to stop when he recognized the kitchen light still turned on. 

Ian made damn sure he was the first thing Mickey would see as he walked into the brightly lit kitchen, so much that Mickey didn’t even look surprised to see him up.

“Where you been?” Ian asked as innocently as he could.

“Out,” Mickey replied, reaching for the fridge, likely to grab a beer.

“Doing who?” Ian asked angrily. He’d actually meant to say “doing what” but… well, it was already out of his mouth. Mickey paused, fingers wrapped around the handle to the fridge, and turned to face Ian with his eyes wide and mouth opened in shock. Ian maintained his face, hurt and anger no doubt dominant on his features. He could already feel the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his throat clogging and jaw clenching as he tried to hard to keep his breathing even… with no success.

“Excuse me?” Mickey breathed.

“Who were you with, Mick?” Ian asked tensely, struggling to keep his voice even.

“Literally  _ no one _ .” His voice made it sound like a vow. And Ian wanted to believe him… God he wanted to believe him  _ so badly.  _ The first tear slipped.

“Then what the fuck were you doing out so late?” Ian demanded. Mickey’s eyes hardened then. Anger. 

No, he wasn’t  _ allowed  _ to be angry. Not after all the shit he’d put Ian through the past four weeks.

“I stay out late so you automatically assume I’m  _ cheating  _ on you?” Mickey cried in disbelief. Ian refused to be… what was it called? Gaslighted?  _ Refused. _

“You haven’t told me  _ once  _ where or what you’ve been out so late for in the past  _ month _ , you won’t let me touch you, can barely stand me to be around you, you’re sneaky as fuck with your phone and the computer… What the fuck else am I going to think?” Ian shouted. Yeah, the whole family was home and Ian was shouting. Big fuckin whoop.

“ _ Not that!”  _ Mickey insisted. Hurt darkened Mickey’s face like Ian had never seen it. This accusation damn near looked to be killing him.

“Then where were you?” Ian demanded. Mickey sagged and sighed, swallowing heavily… averting his eyes to examine the counter like there was something of interest there. Mickey was silent for so long that Ian got impatient. “Great, Mick. Fuckin great.”

“What?” Mickey asked forcefully.

“We’ve been married  _ six months,  _ Mick! Are you fucking kidding —”

“ _ I’m not the one with the history of cheating, Ian!”  _ Mickey interrupted in a shout. Ian’s blood froze in his veins. He struggled for several moments with how to even process that reminder, much less how to respond to it. “I’ve  _ never  _ done anything like that to you!” 

“ _ Byron?”  _ Ian prompted. Mickey laughed without humor.

“We were  _ not  _ together.”

“No, but you sure as fuck waved him in front of me just to hurt me! And we’d  _ just  _ broken up — and it wasn’t even so much a break-up as you  _ ghosting _ !”

“ _ I  _ know what it’s like to  _ actually  _ be cheated on!” Mickey roared. This was a discussion they’d never had, Ian suddenly realized as his mind flashed back to  _ years  _ past when he’d done unspeakable wrong during his mania. “I’d  _ never  _ do that to somebody, Ian! And  _ fuck you  _ for thinking I would!” Mickey’s voice cracked with the force of his words and the emotion clogging up his throat.

Well… Ian had opened up this can of worms… And yet..

“We’re not talking about me. This is about  _ you.” _

_ “Did you not hear me?”  _ Mickey demanded. “I would  _ never  _ do that to someone,  _ least of all you.”  _ Ian clenched his jaw, unsure of how to proceed. He’d asked him where he’d been… accused him of the worst which he denied… How to continue? Ian bat away the tears freely flowing down his cheeks and he heard Mickey take a deep breath from across the kitchen.

“Then what is it, Mick?” Ian pleaded. “Please… I… I know I’ve fucked up before but I have been here  _ for you  _ and… And I know I deserve —”

“I’m gettin my GED.” Mickey blurted.

Silence.

Radio silence.

Fuckin silence after a massive snowstorm silence.

Ian’s whole face froze in a look of despair, confusion, and shock until he fully processed what Mickey said.

“You… You got your GED?” Ian asked dumbly. Mickey huffed.

“Not yet. I’m… Takin stupid fuckin prep classes just to be safe.” Ian collapsed to the table, the tears he’d held back falling freely in relief. He heard Mickey’s steps around the counter and approach the table, stopping at Ian’s right side. He could tell it was the left hand that Mickey reached out to touch him with because he could feel the outlines of his two rings against his shoulder blade. Ian grasped Mickey’s warm hand with his frigid one… with all the strength he had.

“You… You really thought I’d cheat on you?” Mickey asked, his hurt striking Ian’s heart twice as hard.

“I couldn’t believe it… but… all the signs were pointing to yes,” Ian sobbed into his arm against the table. “And…” Slowly, he sat up and turned to face his husband. “Oh god I’m just  _ relieved!”  _ Ian buried his face into Mickey’s torso and wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist as he worked to stop the flow of tears.

“I just… I really can’t believe you thought I’d do that…”

“I didn’t believe it. I just… I was out of things to think!” Ian insisted into Mickey’s shirt before raising his face to meet Mickey’s sorrowful gaze. Mickey ran a tender hand through his husband’s hair and closed his eyes, almost looking like he was wrestling with shame.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Ian whispered. Mickey blew out a harsh breath and stepped out of Ian’s hold, leaning against the counter.

“Because… You just went and took your test without any prep and Lip graduated high school and, fuck even Debbie just went and took the test in an afternoon like it was fuckin nothing! But… Here I am, fuckin 26 and takin high school math and English classes so I don’t waste money tryin to get this stupid thing.”

“It’s not stupid!” Ian insisted. “It can open a lot of doors for you, Mickey.”

“I  _ know  _ that, it’s why I’m going through with it.” Mickey’s voice was clipped, snippy, though Ian could tell it was the defensive kind… The kind that was meant to protect his pride rather than seeking to hurt someone. He could read him again, and it was… god, so relieving to finally know where he stood.

“Mick… There’s no shame in takin those prep courses.” Mickey shook his head, cheeks slightly tinged with red to indicate that was exactly what he felt. “There’s  _ not. _ ”

He wanted to argue Mickey’s case to him. Wanted to remind him that he would have graduated high school like Lip if it weren’t for fuckin Terry ruinin his life, making him devote his young life to running drugs instead of studying and writing those papers. He wanted to tell Mickey just how far he felt his husband could go if life had just… dealt him a decent fuckin hand! But all of that would just embarrass Mickey more, make him even more uncomfortable.

Ian stood to be eye-level with Mickey, curled his hands around the back of Mickey's neck to keep their gazes even.

"I am _so proud_ of you for doin this," Ian murmured.

"Yeah?" Mickey croaked back. Ian beamed.

"Fuckin yeah."

For the next two weeks Mickey returned to his usual schedule, coming home right when Ian expected him and Ian even got out of work early when he could so that he could help Mickey study. It wasn't like Mickey needed much help but when he did, Ian was there. They had the practice exam books and they spent hours going through it until Mickey got every question right.

"You know," Ian said the day before the exam, "If you'd have told me about this from day one I would've helped you... We coulda -- "

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey interrupted, kissing Ian hard. They were on the sofa, wrapping up the last of Mickey's study sessions and fuckin giggling like high schoolers. They were reinventing their lost youth, Ian thought as Mickey climbed into Ian's lap, kissing him with absolute fuckin _joy._ Ian laughed into their kiss but fought a wave of sadness as he realized... this could have been their whole high school experience if it hadn't been for fuckin Terry Milkovich ripping Mickey out of school. But he was _so, so_ fuckin proud of Mickey now for going back and finishing.

"Eww, you gotta do that in the living room?!" Liam cried from the stairs behind them. Both men turned to face the voice and bursted into laughter. But rather than apologize, Mickey grasped the sides of Ian's face and planted the biggest, messiest kiss on him that he could just to make a point -- they'd do whatever the fuck they wanted wherever the fuck they wanted whenever the fuck they wanted. Because that's what being in love does to you.

Approximately two weeks later Mickey received his GED certificate in the mail. At first, Mickey tried to hide it from Ian, wanting to play a little joke on him considering what they'd endured in the process to get there, but in the end he couldn't hide his smile. Ian knew as soon as he entered the kitchen what he got in the mail.


End file.
